


A Gravrobber’s Musing

by legallyblindandrea



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Crossover, Enjolras is Graverobber, Gen, Grantaire is Amber Sweet, I Tried, M/M, kink meme fill, les mis kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legallyblindandrea/pseuds/legallyblindandrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill from the Les Mis Kink Meme, round 4 page 6: </p><p>Enjolras is the Graverobber from Repo! The Genetic Opera. They didn’t need to know he was the Graverobber that was spoken about in hushed whispers in the alleys and under dark street lights, even the Repo Men whispered about him. </p><p>I know I more then likely strayed from the prompt please forgive me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gravrobber’s Musing

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry I really tired don’t hate me. I hope someone else fills this because mine sucks really badly. Oh and I really do love Marius but he just seemed the right person for Bahorel to kill I’m sorry. I hope I did your prompt a little bit of justice.

Enjolras put the vial into his pocket, the blue glow visible before he stuffed a piece of cloth in on top to hide it so the rest of the population milling about on the streets didn’t see it. 

They didn’t need to know he was the Graverobber that was spoken about in hushed whispers in the alleys and under dark street lights, even the Repo Men whispered about him. 

Oh what a fine catch he would be for them and Javert, founder of GENECO.

He knew it was playing with fire, really anything that went against Javert and anything GENECO stood for was something that anyone would be killed for, he just knew how to do it and get away with it, he’s been flying under GENCO’s radar for 4 years now.

He knew the only one whose radar he hadn’t been off of all these 4 years has been Grantaire, Javert’s youngest son who was not only addicted to Zydrate but to Enjolras himself.

If anyone could find him it was Grantaire, that man was determined to make Enjolras’s life a living hell, always taking his stock and leaving blowjobs behind, and sarcastic words mocking him and his Graverobbing ways. 

Yet he always came back for more, not willing to give up his blue fairy in the tiny vials or the living, breathing man whose cock he knew best, whose touch he longed for. 

He knew Grantaire was 1 hit away from going crazy.

Well more so than he already was, Enjolras was sure it was 99% Zydrate that flowed through his veins instead of red blood, the man was a walking Zydrate addict that would make even the most hard core addicts go ‘ok man time to stop you’ve had enough’.

That had to do something to your brains; did he have any to start with? Javert was his father after all.

But he always knew where to find him and Grantaire had a way with his Zydrate induced slur to make his brothers look the other way when he disappeared and his talented tongue made his bodyguards do anything he asked.

It may be Javerts’ name on top of their payrolls but it was Grantaire’s mouth on their cock and in their pussy every night, telling them to look the other way and just go along with him because he needed another hit and his daddy dearest wouldn’t give him any more money since he was supposed to be at AA and getting rid of his addiction.

But his body aches and headaches were starting to hit him hard, the shudders, the sleepless nights and the pain, he knew he needed Zydrate and that warm blue glow flowing through his veins, a wonderful hit to make his world better and take away his pain.

Enjolras ducked behind a garbage can and mentally counted all the vials he had collected today, 23, it was a good haul today and it wasn’t even 4pm, he could get more before the cops started to round everybody up for curfew. 

Which had only been put in place after Javert’s other son Courfeyrac had been caught with another one of the GENterns, a fare looking boy named Jehan, in the opera house in the front row seats, Javert wasn’t pleased to say the least.

That would have been bad enough if his other brother Bahorel hadn’t stabbed that poor GENtern Marius for just being in the same hallway as him at the wrong moment, Javert was not happy with his kids so he took it out on the rest of Paris.

Enjolras ran his fingers through his hair and he thought about that girl he had met this morning what was her name, Shilo, Shalimar, Cassandra, Colette, Cosette?

She looked like a lost lamb, she would need to find him (or he could go looking for her, surly it wouldn’t be that hard Paris wasn’t as big as it once was, before GENCO took over) and let him keep her under his blue glowing wings. 

He knew GENCO and all their sheep would wrap her up in their mess, she seemed too good to be following the masses and submitting to their ways.

He’d keep an eye out for her, she seemed sweet and more than a little bit naïve, she would do well with his guidance in this world. 

He heard a door bang open from somewhere down the alley and voices start talking and feet slapping against the ground as they walked and swayed, some holding the brick walls to keep up-right.

He ducked down lower pulling his coat collar up to hide what he could of his face as the people walked passed him, a bunch of Zydrate addicts he knew from his quick glances, there was one named Feuilly there in the mix. 

Before he hit bottom he was one of the best at origami that Enjolras had ever seen, he was an amazing speaker when you asked him about the fabled Poland that Enjolras had heard about when he was younger.

He worked in a factory down by the Petit Pond, but Enjolras couldn’t remember what he used to make and he knew Feuilly didn’t either if you asked him, before it was closed down and Javert took it over, he had quit and Enjolras found him wandering the streets one night hungry, depressed, tired and a little bit listless.

He gave him his first hit free.

The rest was history, Enjolras seen him in passing everyday him and his fellow addicts, they would never climb up from their Zydrate pit until GENCO was gone and they could get jobs again without the fear of Repo Men or Javert and his lackeys taking more from them.

They would and could never be free well that tyranny ruled above them, decide who lived and die by the way of money due and not paid. 

Money was the root of all evil after all and if GENCO wasn’t the physical representation of that then he didn’t know what would be a better example.

He sighed and got up as the last of the stragglers left the alley heading lords knows where; he made sure nothing fell from his pockets before he headed down the alley taking a shortcut to Père Lachaise Cemetery. 

He hadn’t been there in a few days and he knew a new batch of bodies had been delivered there this morning while he was under the bridge near the Seine collecting a few vials from the recently deceased.


End file.
